Akira

アキラ Katsuhiro Otomo, (1988)

In Japan, anime is a multi billion dollar industry. The amount of films and TV series being produced, and those already in existence is so overwhelming it’s hard to know where to start, let alone sort the good from the bad. In Australia we receive a reasonable sized portion of this huge industry, with more and more anime films being screened and released locally, but it seems the majority remains in Japan for their domestic audiences. But every now and then, an anime film comes along that becomes an event. That takes the world by storm. That forces the world to take another look at Japanese animation and in some cases, shifts the world’s conceptions of the possibilities of animation in general.

Katsuhiro Otomo’s Akira is one such film. Based on his epic manga series, Akira is an incredible vision of the future, whose place among similarly themed live-action Sci-fi works such as Blade Runner, Star Wars and The Matrix is well and truly assured. I realised this last night, when after a gap of who knows how many years, I revisited Akira at a special screening at the Astor Theatre. The story concerns a biker gang of delinquent youths who, after a run in with the government discover a secret operation researching the nurturing of psychic powers in humans through scientific experimentation, and a mysterious, messianic power named Akira

Up until now, I had only experienced Akira by way of DVD. Seeing it on the big screen for the first time was nothing short of a revelation. It was like seeing it for the first time all over again; in fact, it was better. I enjoyed it more than I ever had before. Although, I still feel I appreciate the film’s cultural importance and subsequent influence more than the film itself, as I know that there are many more die-hard fans all over the world that helped Akira receive its title of ‘cult film’. It’s the kind of movie I can watch only every now and then, purely because it’s so damn intense. From the minute the movie starts, right up until the closing credits, we are hardly given a minute to breathe and take stock, as we are thrust into the sprawling metropolis of Neo-Tokyo. A bleak city seemingly plagued by perpetual night.

The film is overflowing with visceral energy. We are subject to a near constant barrage of violence, explosions, and screaming. In addition to this, many nightmarish scenes of hallucination and mutation, in particular, the film’s now famous climax, take the film into more unsettling psychological areas, enabled and conveyed visually through the boundary pushing animation and strong unwavering direction of Otomo. Even the motorbike chases are framed and conveyed in such a dynamic style and are imbued with such a sense of weight, that they become truly exhilarating. The film’s soundtrack, performed by Geinoh Yamashirogumi, perfectly incorporates primal, driving rhythms and even traditional Japanese instruments, while twisting them into an aural feast of a futuristic soundtrack, perfectly complementing Otomo’s stunning aesthetic.

I seem to have just barely touched on the plot of the film, focusing instead on its style and direction. I think the plot is the one place this film falls a bit short, as it progresses so quickly and frantically, I personally would have preferred a bit less screaming and a bit more story background. Then again, most of the context is conveyed visually or through interesting inclusions such as the “Old town” section of Tokyo or the upcoming Olympic Games. And considering it was adapted from a 2000+ page manga, it is quite an achievement. This film is an absolute must for anyone with an interest in animation, as it remains a touchstone of the medium and Japanese cinema in general, the influence of which is still felt today both in Japan and beyond. After seeing it on the big screen I have become convinced that this is the ultimate way to experience it in all its overwhelming glory, so if you are able, seeing it at a cinema is definitely worth it.